I briefly consider leaving all the lizards to Astra. Then I consider decorating Pepper's back with a knife. I decide to do neither and pull two of the animals into the barn.

I stand on the rooftop, silent, drinking in the stark beauty of the vista set before me.  The mountains are a far distance off, on the edge of perception, and farther still the forests beyond that lie on the edge of memory.

The cold evening breeze bites at my face.  I pull off my leather helm so the wind's fingers can brush through my hair.

There is, for this moment, some peace in the isolation of the rooftop, and some connection to a long ago.

Quite unwittingly, I start to hum.  It's an old song.  Familiar and forgotten.  Quietly, I mouth the words in their original Elfish ...

She was born in the Bitterroot Valley in the early morning rain
Wild geese over the water heading north and home again
Bringing a warm wind from the south
Bringing the first taste of the spring
Her mother took her to her breast and softly she did sing

Oh Karrnathe', give this child a home
Give her the love of a good family and a partner of her own
Give her a fire in her heart, give her a light in her eyes
Give her the wild wind for a brother and the wild Karrnathe' skies

Her mother died that summer and she never learned to cry
She never knew her father and she never did ask why
She never knew the answers that would make an easy way
But she learned to know the wilderness and to be a woman that way

Her mother's brother took her in to family and his home
Gave her a hand that she could lean on and a strength to call her own
And she learned to be a farmer and she learned to love the land
And she learned to read the seasons and she learned to make a stand

Oh Karrnathe', give this child a home
Give her the love of a good family and a partner of her own
Give her a fire in her heart, give her a light in her eyes
Give her the wild wind for a brother and the wild Karrnathe' skies

Later, if anyone were to look for Pepper, they would find her with the farm animals.

[Nature: 13+13 = 26 to make friends with the animals on the farm.]

I rein the horse onto the road.  We head NorthEast.  Is it only my imagination, or does the wind already blow cold?  "We're overtaking winter, friend", I tell the horse.  His ears flick back in silent agreement.

[All right, I'll get you in the morning, ob

Everyone else, I suggest just moving ahead as though borealis's character has given some reasonable order, since she hasn't been on in a time]

[When Pepper finally settles down to sleep she stations Creon inside the barn doors as an alarm. Pepper goes into the lofts finding a perch with a good line of sight to those doors, makes a nest of hay for herself, which she burrows into, being completely covered. She sleeps. One eye open.]

Deciding to interpret Leatherleaf's statement that we should talk to the farmers as an order to do so, I slip out of the barn once the lizards are settled, making for the farmhouse.

At the farmhouse, all the windows and doors are closed - unsurprising in this weather - but also, all the curtains are drawn.  It is very quiet, considering there are at least four people in there.

I rein the horse onto the road.  We head NorthEast.  Is it only my imagination, or does the wind already blow cold?  "We're overtaking winter, friend", I tell the horse.  His ears flick back in silent agreement.

You travel for a time uneventfully, the occasional drovers or travelers you encounter raising hands or nodding heads in greeting as you pass.  Just as the rhythm of the road is lulling you into a near-meditative state, you spot the blue and gold livery of an Orien courier - yes, it does appear to be the same one who blew past you before.  She's standing beside her horse, examining one of its hooves.  She waves an arm at you as you approach.

I bite my lip, considering, then press my ear to the door first.

[Perception: 4+10=14
Stealth: 18+5=23]

I bite my lip, considering, then press my ear to the door first.

[Perception: 4+10=14
Stealth: 18+5=23]

You hear very soft murmurs and movement, but can't make out what they're saying or doing.

Stepping back, I knock at the door.

The murmuring briefly raises in intensity, then you see the curtain of the window nearest the door flick back to let the people or person there see who's outside.  Then Mistress Sattler's voice calls out, "One moment!" and you hear a short flurry of scraping, then the door opens.  "Do you need something, Miss Astra?" she asks politely.

"Just bringing this back, Mistress," I reply, nodding to the soup kettle.  "Thanks.  You mind if I ask you all some stuff?"

"Just bringing this back, Mistress," I reply, nodding to the soup kettle.  "Thanks.  You mind if I ask you all some stuff?"

Sattler steps outside, closing the door firmly behind her and accepting the kettle.  "Go ahead, Miss," she nods.

I said you all, not just you, I think, slightly piqued, but don't make a thing of it just yet.  "There been another group that passed this way, before," I state, not making it a question.  "Tell me about 'em, please."

I said you all, not just you, I think, slightly piqued, but don't make a thing of it just yet.  "There been another group that passed this way, before," I state, not making it a question.  "Tell me about 'em, please."

"Seven - no, six weeks ago," she says, in matter-of-fact tone.  "Six of them, on horses, well armed.  Seemed recent military, from their ship-shape manner, or maybe they're part of a larger organization that keeps tight discipline.  If you're pursuing them, kindly don't inform them we pointed you in their direction."

"Yeah, no, not a word," I promise.  "Look, I can't really talk about why we interested in 'em, but is there anything else about 'em that stood out?  They say anything about where they was going or what they was doing?  You hear any names, maybe?"

"Yeah, no, not a word," I promise.  "Look, I can't really talk about why we interested in 'em, but is there anything else about 'em that stood out?  They say anything about where they was going or what they was doing?  You hear any names, maybe?"

"I don't want to know why you're interested," she frankly says.  "Three humans, two dwarfs, and a half-elf.  They called the leader Ivan.  He was one of the humans - distinctive light eyes, he had."  She points north-northeast.  "They didn't say where they were going, but they headed that way."

"The others men or women?" I ask, listening intently.  "Ages, builds, eye and hair colours?  Describe 'em.  Please."

"The others men or women?" I ask, listening intently.  "Ages, builds, eye and hair colours?  Describe 'em.  Please."

"Oh, let me see,"  Sattler says, gaze going distant as she focuses her mind's eye.  "Two of the humans were women, one a man.  The half-elf was a woman, young.  The others were men.  One of those dwarves was light, the other dark. I recall because they otherwise matched."  She shakes her head.  "Any more would be guessing."

"Matched?" I ask.

"Dressed about the same, haircuts about the same, same height," she says, and adds in a lower voice, "looked much alike, too, but you know...dwarfs often do."

Clothes and hair aint so weird, them being army types, I think.  And I guess when you're that short there's maybe less different heights you can be?

"Huh," I say.  "Right, then.  Thanks for the information."  A thought occurs to me, and I ask curiously, "They stay here?  Give you all any trouble?"

Clothes and hair aint so weird, them being army types, I think.  And I guess when you're that short there's maybe less different heights you can be?

"Huh," I say.  "Right, then.  Thanks for the information."  A thought occurs to me, and I ask curiously, "They stay here?  Give you all any trouble?"

"They stayed," and she adds, in a neutral tone masking distaste, "They only took some food."